


Pretty Words

by PuzzleDragon



Category: L.A. By Night (Web Series)
Genre: (they don't actually have sex in this but they sure do talk about some things), Dirty Talk, F/M, Pillow Talk, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzleDragon/pseuds/PuzzleDragon
Summary: Eva's feeling insecure about her appearance. Jasper helps remind her that she's absolutely stunning.
Relationships: Jasper/Eva (L.A. by Night)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	Pretty Words

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as an excuse to write some fun vampire dirty talk, but then I started thinking too hard about how, as much as I love Eva's vampire Galadriel look, she probably isn't always "alright" with her curse. I write a lot of Jasper being the self-conscious one, but sometimes you just have to switch things up a bit. 
> 
> So, this turned into Eva working through some insecurities with the help of Jasper and some dirty compliments, aka "mutually validating your partner... but make it sexy." Enjoy!

Sometimes Eva forgets—forgets her age, her curse, her death. Some nights she comes close to feeling somewhat normal—somewhat like before—like she’s still just a young woman spending the night with a man she loves and who loves her dearly in return; just a girl wandering the hills of Griffith Park in the moonlight.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

Tonight she stands on the balcony of Victor’s club and looks down at the humans dancing below. They are so vibrant, so joyful, so _alive_ . They are heat and movement and desire, so _young_.

Eva is not young—she knows this, she’s been at peace with it for decades, but sometimes it hits her like a fresh wound and it stings to remember so violently—but they are. 

And “young” looks so different than it did when she was alive. The skirts are shorter, the necklines are lower, the heels are higher, the makeup is sleeker. Even the silhouettes are different now. Everything is tighter, smoother. People dance so much closer in public than they ever used to, no pretense of modesty, just movement and connection under the bright lights. As her eyes scan the crowd, Eva sees two women kiss in the middle of the dance floor—her fist clenches at her side in a decades-old fear, a need to protect and to shield, a willingness to take the inevitable punch in their stead—but no one bats an eye, no one flinches.

She sees the women that people reach for, sees the way those women reach back. They don’t look like her, don’t dress like her, don’t move like her. When she picks out the occasional voices that carry through the VIP lounge despite the pounding beat of the club’s music, they don’t sound like her either.

Most nights, Eva is at peace with her lot in unlife. It is far from perfect—cold, dead, colorless, hungry, _monster_ —but there is still good. There is still kindness and gentleness and curiosity, still intelligence and wonder and affection and beauty. 

In life, people always told her she was pretty and she never thought to doubt them. While she has had her qualms about her appearance over the years, she’s never really thought of herself as unattractive—not in life or in death—and even after her curse, people were still quick to tell her she was beautiful. She doesn’t love being bleached of color, sometimes wishes she could look as she once did. But after so many long years in this body, Eva has grown familiar with it, comfortable with it, and still thinks of herself as her own kind of pretty despite the traumas her flesh has endured.

But tonight, looking out at the sea of bright colors and warm bodies—moving together, wanting each other, built for desire—she can’t help the pang of insecurity that stabs at her heart.

Sometimes being around mortals helps her reconnect to her own humanity, reminds her of who she once was and what she wanted then—like the drugs and the rain and the music do. But sometimes it just throws her current state of being into stark contrast, showcasing just how far from humanity she’s drifted over the decades.

And sometimes it is even simpler. Tonight she sees girls with bright cheeks and tan skin and tight skirts and dark hair and she feels—not jealous, not exactly, but—inadequate, self-conscious. She can look at them and see why people want them, and her own form simply cannot measure up.

As Eva stares out over the balcony, she feels a hand on her back—Jasper’s, she knows without looking—and that touch pulls her out of her spiraling train of thought. He wraps his arms around her waist, enveloping her small frame in the comforting darkness that always seems to cling to him. His body is all sharp angles, but his embrace is soft and reassuring. She finds herself leaning into him almost unconsciously.

“You alright?” he asks, mouth close to her ear so he doesn’t have to shout to be heard over the music.

Eva nods, her own anxieties still lingering in the corners of her mind. “Fine.”

Jasper may not know exactly what’s bothering her, but he knows her too well not to notice that something’s wrong.

“You… wanna go home?” he suggests, offering her an escape so she doesn’t have to ask for one.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, her head bumping against his shoulder as she nods.

Jasper leads her toward one of the discrete, hidden exits without delay, making their excuses to the others on their way out—there is a wink from Victor and a knowing smirk from Nelli, but neither ignites the same kind of flustered mischief in Eva that their teasing often does.

The walk back to their haven is uneventful, but Eva can feel Jasper’s eyes on her the whole way there. She can almost hear the cogs in his brain turning, trying to work out why she’s upset tonight—if it’s something he did, if it’s something he didn’t do, if it’s something he can fix.

But it’s nothing, she reminds herself, nothing to worry him about. It was just an idle thought, a passing insecurity. There are far more important things to worry about than whether strangers would deem her attractive enough to—to what? To touch, to kiss, to sleep with? She’s happy with Jasper, doesn’t want anyone else, and he’s never given any indication that she isn’t enough for him.

So why does she feel so… undesirable? 

Back in their haven, she feels Jasper’s gaze linger on her as they get ready for bed. There is still some time before dawn, but Eva hadn’t given any sign that she wanted to do anything else tonight—hadn’t headed for the library to get a book or to the living room to turn on her record player—and he hadn’t pushed her.

After they climb into bed together and settle under the covers, Jasper finally breaks the heavy silence.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, placing a hand on her arm, gazing at her with so much tender concern in his cloudy blue eyes.

“It’s nothing,” she murmurs, voice slow and uncertain, “Sometimes, I just… Tonight, I just… Nevermind.”

“No. Not nevermind. What’s bothering you?”

“It’s silly.”

“If it’s upsetting you, it’s not silly.” When she doesn’t respond immediately, he continues, “Please. I want to help. You always help me. Let me do the same.”

“Tonight I just… don’t feel very… desirable.”

“What?” he asks, the confusion evident in his voice.

“I don’t know, just… seeing some of the people at the club tonight… seeing the way humans act with each other… the way they look now, it just… reminded me that I’m not…” Eva sighs heavily. “I am an old, short, pale, flower child who wears too much lace and whose dresses are too long and who…” She sighs again. “I’m just not what people think of when they think of sexy.”

She hadn’t been able to look Jasper in the eye as she spoke her confession, but on this last statement, he turns her body towards him so she is sure to see his face—the worry and compassion and affection written plainly across the sharp lines and angles of his features.

“You’re usually so confident,” he murmurs, “So self-assured. I know you don’t love looking… the way you do now, but I never thought you doubted that you were beautiful.”

“Is it ridiculous to say that I don’t… feel sexy tonight?” she asks, frustrated with herself more than anything, “That a short, colorless, seventy-year-old dead hippie isn’t exactly tempting when compared with what ‘pretty’ women look like now?”

“Do you…” Jasper swallows, clearly trying to find the right words, “Do you think I don’t… find you sexy? 

“Tonight I just can’t see why you would.”

And that’s the core of it, really. He hasn’t done anything wrong, hasn’t neglected her in the slightest. But comparing herself to others—to the fashionable mortals far closer to Jasper’s age or to the young Kindred that can still blend in so easily or to the seductive Toreadors who emulate them all—tends to block out anything she’s ever thought was alluring about herself.

“I could remind you,” he says, voice barely a whisper.

“Huh?” Of all the things she’d expected him to say, this one surprises her.

“I could remind you,” he repeats, growing a bit more confident with each word, “Tell you everything I find so attractive about you… about my starlight.” He murmurs the pet name—a relatively new addition to their relationship—with a hint of reverence that tugs at her heart. “If you want me to?”

“You shouldn’t have to, love,” Eva says, reaching up to stroke his cheek, matching his endearment with one of her own, “This is just a… passing storm cloud. I’m being silly… overthinking things… I shouldn’t need you to… validate me.”

“I know,” Jasper replies, leaning into her palm, “And most of the time, you know your worth without anyone telling you. Because you are clever and kind and beautiful, all on your own, without anyone there to point it out. But if you’re doubting yourself, let me help remind you. You always help ease my anxieties, let me help ease one of yours.”

When he says it like that, it seems so simple. Eva never lets him wallow in his own self-loathing, why would he ever let her do the same. She never thought she’d need reassurance like this, but when it’s offered so sincerely, why should she say no?

“I’m too old to be worried about how I look,” she says, giving one last push for mind over heart.

“We all have bad nights,” he says and she knows he speaks from experience, “Let me make this a better one.”

The look he gives her is so sincere, so honest, so full of affection, it breaks down whatever walls she was still trying to hold up. Forget cold reason and rationale, she wants to hear her boyfriend tell her she’s sexy.

“Can I do this for you?” Jasper asks, voice low and steady, tinged with a want too deep for her to put a name to.

Eva nods, whispering, “Yes,” into what little space remains between them.

He leans in to kiss her then, soft and gentle, before pulling back.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, voice as soft as his kiss, “Your eyes are so impossibly blue, the prettiest color I’ve ever seen. They light up when you smile, and I love seeing you smile. You look so pretty when you’re happy and your laughter is one of the nicest sounds I’ve ever heard. Love making you laugh.”

He twists a strand of her long white hair around his finger as he continues, “I could play with your hair for hours. It’s so soft, smells like roses, and it always looks amazing.” That draws a smile out of her as he buries his face in her neck, breathing in deep. “And you always smell incredible, like flowers and incense and herbs. I love still being able to smell you on my clothes when we’re apart.” 

He presses another soft kiss to the underside of her jaw—still so chaste—before he says, “Waking up to you every night is like a dream.”

“How romantic,” she murmurs, her earlier sadness still staining the edges of her voice.

Jasper pulls back from her neck to meet her eyes again. He can read her so well now. She knows he can see that while some of the tension has started to ease from her, this isn’t exactly what she had in mind when he suggested this.

“But you don’t want romantic, do you?” he questions, “You want something else from me.”

Eva bites her lip and looks up at him with those big, impossibly blue eyes. He wants her to say it, won’t step over that line until she invites him to.

“I want more,” she finally breathes and watches the hungry grin spread across his face. His sharp fangs poke out as his eyes spark with want.

“You want… flirtatious? Filthy? All the explicit details about what I love about you? What you do to me?” His voice is low and teasing and Eva finds herself nodding at every word. “You want me to talk dirty, Eva?”

The way he says her name is enough to undo her.

“Tell me everything,” she manages to purr.

“I think I can manage that,” he growls, leaning back in to ghost his lips across her jaw and neck as he speaks. 

“Your curves are incredible,” he says, “Your hips, your ass, your gorgeous breasts—everything about you is soft and enticing.” He skims a hand along her body, caressing her through her time-worn pajamas, and she melts under every touch. “Love touching you, love teasing you. Love watching the way you move when we’re together, the way you grind against me, the way you writhe. I love finding every spot and pressure point that makes you wet, that leaves you dripping. I could spend all night between your thighs, you taste that amazing. And the _sounds_ you make.” He groans against her throat at the mere thought of it.

“Sounds?” Eva asks, feeling a bit breathless despite not actually needing to breathe.

“The moans and the whines and the gasps,” he murmurs, mouth close to her ear as his fingers dig into her thigh, “The way you moan when I have my tongue buried between your legs is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I could listen to you make that sound for hours. The way you scream my name, the way you groan when you’re riding me—it’s all incredibly sexy.”

“Oh?” She doesn’t want him to stop, anything to encourage him to keep talking.

“Yeah.” Jasper presses his lips against her jaw in another light kiss. “When I come back from being out all night and you’re already lying half-naked on our bed?” he prompts and she nods, “That turns me on so fast. Makes me want you the second I walk in. Just seeing you like that, stretched out and smirking, just waiting for me to fuck you—” His words fall away into a growl and she can’t help but match him with a quiet moan.

Jasper knows exactly how to make her feel better. She could listen to him talk like this for the rest of the night. 

“And you _know_ I like your magic,” he says, “When you throw lightning, you look like a goddess and all I want to do is worship you. And the way you hold me down, press me into the mattress, with your mind or your hands, when you tie me down… When you tell me to stay still, tell me to be good for you, while you just tease me with your gorgeous hands…” He growls against her neck. “That’s nothing but sexy.”

Eva hums as she feels his hand creep under her shirt, stroking her spine and pulling her close to his side, their legs tangling together. His long fingers toy with the waistband of her cotton shorts, a promise of more if she wants it.

“You can unravel me with a look,” he breathes, pulling back to meet her gaze again, “So never doubt for a second, that you are so incredibly sexy.”

He’s good at this. And on another night, Eva might be content to just lie there and let him keep talking—whispering every deliciously dirty compliment he can think of until she’s aching to Blush—but tonight, she wants to play, too.

“And what about you?” she asks coyly, curling into his side.

“What about me?” he counters, still stroking her back.

“Do you want me to remind you just how much I want you?” Eva reaches up to trace the hard line of Jasper’s cheekbone and he turns his head just enough to kiss her palm. Even now, even like this, they can still be so tender. “In case you’ve forgotten?” 

“I thought I was supposed to be the one making you feel better,” he grumbles, but his tone speaks more to affectionate exasperation than genuine annoyance. 

“You were… you _did_ … but now it’s my turn.” She stretches out across him, placing a hand on his chest as one of her legs slots between his. “Because you’re very sexy.”

“Eva, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Let me talk dirty to you, Jasper,” Eva murmurs, “Let me remind you that I think you’re a work of art.”

He purrs at that, just a little, as he settles beneath her.

“Is that a yes?” she breathes against his throat, waiting for his agreement before she goes any further.

Jasper swallows hard before he nods. A quiet, “Yes… please,” escapes his parted lips and Eva can’t help the smile that spreads across her face.

“Good,” she sighs, leaning in close to graze her teeth across his exposed throat. She doesn’t bite—doesn’t risk that kind of pleasure—but she knows how much he loves to feel her fangs against him even if she can’t let them sink in. The way his nails dig into her hip is just another delicious reminder of how much he enjoys it.

She pulls back before she speaks just so she can watch his lovely face react to her words. 

“You love burying your face between my thighs?” she questions, trailing her fingers over his chest as she speaks, “Well, I love having you there. You have such a clever tongue, so good to me, makes me so wet. I love everything about your mouth. Your tongue, your lips, your _fangs_. When you bite into my neck, I don’t even have words for how good that feels, especially when you’re touching me at the same time. Sometimes you lick your fangs while you’re thinking, when we’re in public, and I can’t help but stare. I know you don’t do it on purpose, but it does things to me. You’re sexy without even trying.”

She captures his mouth in a hungry kiss then, sliding her tongue across his fangs. He rolls his hips up against her thigh as they kiss, desperate for her even as she pulls away. He wants her already, but she isn’t done yet. 

She can feel the steady rumble in his chest as her hand drifts lower. She trails a painted nail across his gray skin, following a dark vein down his arm and pausing at his wrist, tracing the lines of his palm before interlacing her fingers with his.

“And your hands,” Eva sighs, “Such long, talented fingers. Hands built for music… and pleasure. Always know just how to touch me and where. Love feeling them on me… and in me. When I’m high, I could watch them for hours… and that’s only because I want to play with them when I’m sober, too, but I keep my composure most of the time.”

He lets out a slight laugh at that, and she loves the sound of it.

“And I think this goes without saying, but in case it doesn’t, I love your cock.” Jasper growls low in his chest as the word leaves her mouth. “Love the way you fill me, stretch me just right. Feels better than I could’ve ever imagined… and I _did_ imagine it.”

He lets out another rough, stuttered growl at that, the noise getting caught in his throat.

“You like the sounds I make?” she prompts and waits for him to nod before she continues, “Well, I _love_ the sounds you make. All the growls and the purring and everything in between. You’re so expressive. Love the way you say my name when you’re turned on and the way you moan when you fall apart. Sometimes I think I could get off just listening to your voice. It’s so sexy. _You’re_ so sexy.”

Jasper’s fingers dig into her thigh as he growls again.

“You’re sounding a lot more… self-assured,” he murmurs as she presses against him. 

“I’m feeling a lot better,” she replies, the smirk evident in her voice, “Thanks to you. I should ask you to dirty talk more often.”

“I, uh… I w-wouldn’t be opposed.”

Eva likes hearing him be confident with her, but when that adorable stutter slips back in every now and then, she can’t help but smile. It’s nice to know she can still make him a bit flustered, even after so many months together. 

“You made me feel… wanted,” she says softly, “Like you always do.”

“I try my best.”

“You succeed,” she giggles before dropping her tone a bit lower to add, “And you made me feel _very_ sexy.”

His voice is all want and hunger as he says, “I meant every word.”

“So did I,” Eva whispers, leaning up to press slow kisses to his neck.

Jasper’s hands creep under her shirt again, his nails scratching lightly at her soft skin. 

“Do you just want words tonight?” he asks, tilting his head back to bare his neck for her, “Or can I _show you_ just how sexy I think you are?”

“Only if I can show you, too,” she answers, another smile spreading across her lips, “I’ll be sure to be… vocal. Make all those sounds you like so much.”

“And I’ll use my… what was it? ‘Clever and talented’ fingers?”

“And your gorgeous cock?” Her teeth graze his throat again—still oh so careful of her deadly fangs—and he growls beneath her.

“Only if you let me eat you out till you scream.”

Eva moans against him, her hands already reaching for the hem of his shirt. 

“Get naked and let me fuck you,” she breaths, pressing her cold hands against his ribs.

“I was about to say the same thing.”

Eva laughs herself into a Blush, warmth blooming in her chest as she pulls back from his neck. She sits up and tosses her shirt across the room before pulling at Jasper’s, urging him to do the same. His shirt joins hers on the floor, and he gazes up at her adoringly as he focuses on his own breathing, forcing his heart to beat again. With her hand against the dark stain on his chest, Eva can feel the moment his heart springs to life again, his pulse quick and excited beneath her palm.

They both struggle out of the rest of their sleep clothing, adding it all to the pile on the floor until they’re both lying naked in their small bed. Jasper’s already hard after only a few strokes from her gentle hand, and he groans as she slings a leg over him to straddle his waist.

Jasper’s hands skim up her sides, moving to massage her breasts. She’d meant every word about his clever hands, fingers that know just how to touch her now after all their time together. She’s already so wet for him as he teases her sensitive skin.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Eva gasps as one of his hands moves down to the apex of her thighs. 

“I was hoping to,” he growls back.

She laughs again, leaning down to kiss him hungrily. He makes her feel desirable and playful and _alive_ again. Even on difficult nights, even when old worries creep back in at the corners of her mind, he makes her feel wanted. She hopes she does the same for him. Because she does want him—wants his mouth and his hands and his cock, wants to give him everything she has in return, wants to kiss him and make love until dawn, wants to fall asleep in his arms with her body pressed close to his, wants to wake up tomorrow evening and do nothing but talk, just sit in their library, reading together in comfortable silence until the sun crests over the horizon again. 

She wants to spend every night being content to share her time and her space and her heart with this man who loves her unconditionally.

But right now, Eva just wants to fuck her boyfriend until he can’t do anything but growl and pant and shout her name as he comes. She wants to follow through on every word, every compliment, every dirty promise that’s already passed between them tonight. And judging by the look in Jasper’s eyes—one that conveys love and lust in equal measure—he wants nothing more than to do the same for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! This is probably my most risque fic—despite the fact that it ends in a fade to black—so I was a little nervous about sharing it, but the vamily's always been so supportive and I think it turned out pretty good. I hope you all enjoy it and if there's anything else that I should tag for this, please let me know. And, as always, comments and kudos are very much appreciated!


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